


It's What We Do

by brbsoulnomming



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-07
Updated: 2012-02-07
Packaged: 2017-10-30 18:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brbsoulnomming/pseuds/brbsoulnomming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a prompt at <a href="http://grimm-kink.livejournal.com/452.html?thread=205508#t205508">grimm_kink</a>: <i>I'd love to see an AU where Monroe is hiding (whether from his family, other Blutbads, etc.) and keeps in dog form to avoid detection. Nick thinks he's a stray and takes him in. Monroe falls in love with Nick between all of his inner-snarking.</i></p><p>Only without the AU part. Or, Monroe is an injured wolf, Nick has the flu, and they take care of each other. Also there's some sort of Grimm-work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's What We Do

It was past midnight and pouring when Nick finally pulled into his driveway. 

Not that either of those were all that out of the ordinary when you were a cop, a Grimm, and lived in Portland, Oregon, but those facts were particularly noteworthy that day because Nick had spent most of those hours up until midnight outside in that pouring rain. It was worth it, since they’d caught the guy, but strangely enough it hadn’t made the ache in his throat or the pounding behind his eyes feel any better. 

He was all but sniffling as he stepped out of his car – and back into the rain – and knew that he was going to have to face the fact that he was probably sick. Because a cold was definitely what he needed right then. 

Nick made his way up to his front porch, keeping his head ducked down and face out of the rain as much as possible. 

Still, he spotted the dark shape curled up to the side of his door, safely under the overhang and out of the rain, before he reached the porch. He hesitated for about half of a second, then decided he’d rather be out of the rain before worrying about what was most likely a dog – it _looked_ like a dog, what he could see of it through the dark and the rain – even if it put him closer to said most likely dog than he would’ve liked to have been before definitely figuring out what it was. 

As he stepped under the overhang, the shape lifted up its head, slowly getting to its feet, and yeah, it was definitely a dog. One of the biggest dogs Nick had ever seen – though not the biggest, that went to the near three hundred pound monster of a Saint Bernard that one of his college roommates had enjoyed surprising people with. This dog held his size differently; where Sin had been bulky with muscle, this dog was lean and lanky, with long legs and dark brown fur, though it was too dark for Nick to make out his features. 

The dog took a step forward, and his left front leg buckled under him. He caught himself before he went down, and remained standing, but he didn’t put any weight on the leg.

“Shit,” Nick muttered. 

Of course an injured stray decided to show up on his doorstep after the former resident veterinarian had moved out. 

There was no way Nick could ignore the quiet, pained whimpers the dog was making, though, so he took a few slow, careful steps towards the dog, holding out his hands to show he wasn’t a threat.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, tone soft and gentle. Or, well, as soft and gentle as he could make it when talking felt like rubbing his throat with sandpaper and it kind of sounded like he’d done pretty much exactly that. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Just let me take a look at you.”

The dog’s response was to give his tail a slow wag, which Nick took as a good sign. 

Nick moved in closer to the dog, pushing wet hair away from his face and trying not to sniffle as he crouched down next to the injured animal. There were dark, matted spots on his leg that were probably blood, but Nick couldn’t be certain out here in the dark. Nick rested his hand carefully on the dog’s shoulder, and the dog leaned into his touch. He stuck his nose against Nick’s other hand, nuzzling into it, and yeah, there was no way Nick was leaving the dog out here.

“Okay,” he murmured, pulling himself to his feet. “Let’s get you inside.”

He walked over to the door to unlock it, nudging it open with his foot as he patted his hip and made a ‘come here’ gesture with his other hand. “Come on, boy.” Nick hoped the dog could make it inside, because he wasn’t actually sure he could carry him right then. 

Fortunately, the dog got the idea and managed to get inside the house, though he was limping in a way that made Nick even more determined to take care of him. 

Nick helped the dog up on the couch, and returned to looking at his leg now that they were in better light. That was definitely blood on there, though it seemed to be mostly dried, which was a good sign. He checked over the dog, like he knew what he was doing – he didn’t, not really, though with a knowledge of first aid and watching Juliette for so long, he could pretend like he did – and found some soreness around his ribs. From what he could feel, it didn’t seem like there was anything broken, but he wasn’t an expert.

The dog was patient with him, only whimpering a bit when he touched a place that was tender, and never growling or snapping at him. Nick was pretty sure he had to be someone’s pet, though he wasn’t wearing a collar. 

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’m going to go get something to clean that up.” He paused, then added, “Stay.”

The dog didn’t move, but Nick wasn’t sure if that was because he knew the command, or was in too much pain to move. Either way, the dog was in the same spot when Nick returned with a soft cloth, a bowl of warm water, and a first aid kit. He carefully cleaned the blood from the dog’s fur, then took a closer look at the injuries. They didn’t look deep, but there were a lot of them. Like the dog had somehow gotten his leg tangled in a thorn bush, which was possibly what had happened. 

It didn’t look like the dog needed stitches, but he couldn’t be sure. It was too late tonight, but he’d take him to a vet in the morning. For now, he bandaged up the dog’s leg, murmuring soothingly to him and gently stroking his head every so often. 

“Okay, buddy, all done,” he told him, standing up.

A little too quickly, it seemed, because the room swam momentarily and he had to put his hand on the arm of the couch to steady himself. 

“Bed time,” he muttered, giving a slightly self-depreciating smile to the dog. “Before I end up passed out next to you.” He covered the dog with a blanket, just in case he got cold, then cleaned up the first aid stuff and started for the stairs. 

Nick’d barely set foot on them when he heard a soft thump, and he looked over to see that the dog had hopped off the couch and was limping towards him. 

“I’m just going upstairs. I’ll be back after a few hours of sleep,” Nick promised.

The dog was undeterred, and didn’t stop until he was by Nick’s side, butting his head lightly against Nick’s hip.

“Don’t want to be alone?” Nick rasped, well aware he was projecting as he rested a hand on the dog’s head. “Yeah. Me neither. But I don’t think I can manage to get you up there.”

He tried to coax the dog back onto the couch, but the dog was having none of it. Finally, Nick just headed up the stairs, the dog following after him. Between the dog limping and Nick giving in and hauling him up the rest of the stairs, they managed to get to the top.

Nick’d been planning on showering, but after that, it was all he could do to strip out of his wet clothes and tug on a dry pair of boxers and a tee-shirt. The dog was curled up in the middle of the bed when Nick stumbled over to it, on top of the covers and with obviously no regard for the fact that Nick slept there. 

“Fine,” Nick mumbled. “But scoot over.”

Predictably, the dog ignored him. Nick carefully nudged him to one side of the bed – the dog grumbled at him, but went easily enough – and crawled in under the covers. The dog was a warm, almost comforting weight beside him, and Nick was exhausted enough that, even with the sore throat and pounding head, he fell asleep quickly.

Sometime later, he was woken up by the sound of his cell phone ringing. He groped blindly for it, hitting the answer button and mumbling, “Burkhardt.” Or at least, that was what he was going for, he wasn’t entirely sure what came out.

“Nick?” Hank asked. “That you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Nick cleared his throat, which turned into having to stifle a few coughs. “What’s up?”

“You sound even more like hell than you did last night,” Hank informed him. “Man, I told you you were coming down with something.”

“It’s just a cold,” Nick muttered. 

“Uh-huh,” Hank said. “Your ass better not be coming in today.”

“Of course I’m coming in,” Nick said. 

Hank snorted. “Right, I’m sure you’ll do a lot of good face down on your desk and sounding like you ate gravel. You’ve got all those sick days, take a few and get some sleep. Remember what both bed and breakfast are.” Hank chuckled, obviously amused with himself. “We’ve got it covered. It’s just paperwork now, you can do most of your part from home. I’ll tell the captain, you just get better.”

Nick contemplated getting out of bed and dragging himself down to the precinct. His head started pounding a bit more at just the thought. “Yeah,” he said reluctantly. “I guess you’re right. Call me if there’s anything, okay?”

“You know I will,” Hank said. 

“Thanks, man,” Nick told him. 

“Hey, this is selfish,” Hank replied. “You think I want you hanging around looking like death, hacking all over me? Whatever you’ve got, I’d like you to keep it to yourself.”

“Thanks,” Nick muttered, aiming for sarcastic but not quite sure he made it. 

“That’s what partners are for,” Hank said cheerfully. “I’ll stop by after my shift, okay?” 

“Okay,” Nick agreed.

He hung up, letting the phone drop down on the bed, and tried to fall back asleep. Unfortunately, now that he was awake, it was harder to ignore the way even swallowing grated painfully against his throat, his sinuses were completely blocked up, and there was the beginning of what sounded like a rattle in his lungs every time he exhaled. 

“Great,” Nick muttered. 

He sat up, blinking blearily at the immense dog curled up on the bed next to him before remembering the night before.

“Shower,” Nick told the dog. “Then we’ll see what we’re going to do about you.”

It was just past eight when he finished, and the fact that he’d only just barely managed to successfully shower without passing out or smashing his head on the shower door made him think that he probably shouldn’t be driving anywhere any time soon. He stared at the dog, who seemed to be sleeping, but every so often was making soft, pained whimpers. 

“I gotta get someone to look at you,” Nick said.

It probably should have been the first clue that he had a fever that he thought it would be a good idea to call Juliette and ask her to make a house call. Whatever her feelings were about him at the moment, though, she couldn’t say no to an injured dog, so she agreed to head over. 

He managed to get the dog back downstairs, but it must have taken longer than he’d thought, because he’d only just barely gotten the dog settled on the couch when the doorbell rang. 

“Hey,” Nick greeted as he pulled the door open. “Thanks for doing this.” He spent a moment trying to get Juliette into focus, then gave it up for lost.

And realized that Juliette’d said something, but all he’d caught was ‘terrible.’

“What?” he asked. 

“Are you all right?”

“Oh.” He attempted a smile. “It’s just a cold. The dog’s in the living room.” 

He stepped aside to let her in, closing the door behind her and following her into the living room. The dog was still on the couch, but his head was up, focused on Juliette, and he began growling softly as she moved closer. Nick went to his side, resting his hand on the dog’s head. 

“Shh,” he murmured soothingly. “It’s okay. She’s a friend, she’s just going to take a look at you so we can get you better.”

The dog’s growling stopped, and Nick smiled, looking over at Juliette.

Who was talking again.

Nick managed to pick up ‘ _that’s_ your stray dog?’ so he went with it, nodding. “Yeah. Huge, isn’t he? I’m pretty sure he’s someone’s pet, he’s way too used to people. Didn’t even growl at me when I cleaned him up last night, and that had to hurt.” 

Juliette stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. “I’ll take a look at him.”

Nick stayed by the dog’s side, watching Juliette work and trying not to cough too much or let Juliette catch him wiping his nose on his sleeve. He’d tried to head into the kitchen to get some meds, but the dog had stopped sitting calmly under Juliette’s attention when he’d stepped out of the room. 

“Even the dogs think you’re their hero,” Juliette said, with something that was almost a smile. 

For a moment, he very nearly said, ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be yours.’ But fortunately, he wasn’t quite feverish enough yet to not be able to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he almost smiled back, resting a hand on the dog’s head. “Just this one.” 

Juliette finished up, then stepped back to stand by Nick. “There’s a lot of cuts on his leg, but they’re not too deep. He’s not going to need stitches. Looks like he got caught in some brambles or something and gave himself a strain trying to get free. It’s his ribs I’m worried about.”

“Does he need X-rays?” Nick asked. 

She shook her head. “Nothing’s broken, so there’s no point in diagnosing it further. But I’ve seen this kind of injury before, Nick, it usually comes from a really heavy blow.”

Nick didn’t say anything to that. They were both more than aware of how many people were out there that would rather kick an injured stray dog away than help him. “What does he need?”

“Rest. A lot of it, he could take a month to heal, Nick, are you going to keep him?”

“No,” Nick said. “But I’m not just going to abandon him.”

Juliette looked doubtfully at the dog. “I can maybe find-”

“No,” Nick said again. “He’s staying here until he’s better.” It felt like the dog was his responsibility, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the way that the dog had given a soft growl that turned into a whimper when Juliette’d suggested him leaving. Coincidence, Nick knew, or at most the dog responding to her tone, but Nick couldn’t help feeling like the dog wanted him. Like he’d chosen him to come to in his time of need. Nick couldn’t let him down.

Juliette sighed. “Fine. Keep him as stationary as possible, make sure he doesn’t over-exert himself. If it seems like he’s in a lot of pain, you can give him something for it. I’ll write down the doses for you.” 

Nick nodded, started to thank her, then had to pause for a moment to finally give in and cough. “Thanks, Juliette.”

She frowned at him. “You look horrible, Nick. Look, I know you hate being alone when you’re sick, when I get off, I can come over and-”

“No,” Nick said, too quickly, and grimaced. “I’m sorry. I just – don’t think that would be a good idea.”

Juliette nodded. “Right, of course. I’m sure you were going to call your mysterious new best friend, anyway, he’s always so eager to spend all of his time with you.” 

“Juliette-” Nick started. 

“I know. It’s not like that. You just won’t tell me what it _is_ like.” 

The pounding behind Nick’s eyes began to get worse. He couldn’t go into this with her now. “Thank you for doing this, Juliette. Really.” He looked at her earnestly, and her expression softened. 

“I’ll send you my bill,” she said. It sounded like she was aiming for teasing, but didn’t quite make it. 

After she left, Nick stood in the living room, eyeing the dog and the stairs. 

“Think we’ll be making ourselves comfortable down here, bud.”

The dog whined. 

“Shit, you’re probably starving. And really have to pee, come on, boy.” 

He helped the dog out into the yard, then back in the house and into the kitchen. Nick filled a bowl with water and set it down for the dog to drink while he downed a few pills and opened the fridge. There was leftover barbeque and some basic sandwich components, but other than that, there wasn’t much. 

“Looks like egg salad or chicken,” Nick said, offering the dog a bit of both. 

The dog sniffed at them, then ate the egg salad, licking Nick’s fingers. 

“Egg salad it is,” Nick said, pulling down a large bowl and filling it up. 

He set it down for the dog, who immediately began chomping it down.

“Not so fast,” Nick said. 

Not unexpectedly, the dog ignored him.

“Hey, slow down,” Nick told him, reaching for the bowl.

The dog growled at him, low and threatening.

Nick paused for half a second to assess the seriousness of that threat, then pulled the bowl away without fear. “Gonna make yourself sick,” Nick told the dog when he whined. “And I’m not cleaning up puke with this headache.” He pushed the bowl back towards the dog, sinking down to sit next to him. Nick let him chow down for a few moments, then pulled the bowl away again. The third time he took it away and gave it back, the dog was eating slower. 

He rested a hand on the dog’s neck, absently leaning his head back against the cabinet while the dog ate.

“Never really got how people could be afraid of dogs,” Nick said. “It’s just knowing when to push, and when not to. And when to stay the hell away. Maybe that’s just me, though. Always had good instincts, I guess.” Nick laughed hoarsely, then coughed. “Or maybe it was just me being a Grimm, before I really even was one.”

And that was why Juliette couldn’t be here. Because he got talkative when he was sick and feverish, rambling about nothing despite his throat telling him to shut the hell up. Or maybe because of it. In any case, it didn’t matter who was there, Juliette or a dog who was too busy eating to give even the illusion that he was paying attention. Nick probably would’ve said the same thing.

“And she can’t know about that,” Nick told the dog. “She was right, I do hate being alone. But I can’t risk telling her things like that. Besides, I’ve got you, and you won’t think I’m crazy when I tell you I’m friends with people who aren’t human.”

The dog ignored him in favor of licking the bowl clean. 

“Exactly,” Nick said with a grin.

He pulled himself up and managed to make a cup of tea, taking it with him into the living room while the dog followed alongside him.

They got settled on the couch, the dog big enough to take up most of the room, with Nick reduced to only three quarters or so of a cushion. The fourth time the dog whimpered in his sleep, though, Nick quietly went back into the kitchen. He had to make his best guess on Juliette’s dosage instructions, since he didn’t know the dog’s exact weight, but he erred on the side of caution, then hid the pill in a piece of cheese. 

The dog was awake when he returned with it and another cup of tea, and Nick set down his mug and offered the dog the cheese. For a moment, the dog just sniffed it, and Nick worried he’d caught on, but then he took it delicately from Nick’s hand. Nick flopped back down onto the couch, but instead of going back to sleep, the dog just watched him.

“What?” Nick asked, looking back at him through half-lidded eyes. 

The dog set his head down on his good leg. 

Nick eyed him for a moment, then stretched out on the couch. “Come here.”

He got the dog settled half in his lap and half on the couch, and the dog let out a soft huff before closing his eyes. Nick rested his hand on the dog’s head, absently scratching behind his ears. 

“Good boy,” Nick murmured. 

The dog huffed again. 

Nick took a sip of his tea. “Hank’s supposed to stop by later, but I can’t let him stay long. Same reason, though he’s going to figure out something whether I want him to or not, soon enough, if our cases keep slipping into Grimm territory.” Nick coughed, scratching behind the dog’s ears again. “It’s not like I don’t have anyone who knows. Only got one friend that I can talk to about this stuff, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”

He chuckled, coughing again. “No way I’m calling him, though. Man, I can just picture the look on his face if I called him and tried to get him to come over here and hang out with me because I’m sick. Actually, it might be worth it, just to get that look.” He smoothed a hand over the dog’s head. “He’s a good guy, but he’s always trying to convince me he’s not. Like I can’t see through his act when he pretends to bitch about helping. Some of it’s real, sure, but he always does it.”

Nick drank more tea. “Keeps dropping these little comments, like he’s trying to remind me he’s bad news. Talking about bleeding hearts, asking about that guy in the hospital. Like violence is some kind of foreign thing to me, like I haven’t seen worse. Like I haven’t done some myself. I think he forgets I’m not just a newbie Grimm, I’m a cop. I’ve shot creatures, humans, for my aunt, for Hank, for Gracie and Hansen and the rest of those kids, for Holly, for _him_. And he thinks I’m going to freak out over a guy who beat him up, who tried to kill my-” His voice cracked there, which he decided to attribute to his cold.

He downed the last of his tea, turning his attention towards the TV. There was some comedy show on, but he wasn’t really focusing on it. Or, well, hadn’t been, and now he was kind of lost. But it was something to do, something that wasn’t talking to a dog. He wasn’t sure how much time passed with him sitting there staring at the TV, petting the dog’s head, but it was enough that he apparently forgot that he’d finished his tea, because there was a moment of surprise when he grabbed his mug and found it empty. 

“I should get more tea. I need fluids, you’re supposed to drink a lot of them. But you’re comfortable.” The dog looked asleep, and wasn’t whimpering at all. Nick didn’t want to disturb him. Or get up. “In a few minutes.”

But a few minutes became a lot longer, and the next thing he knew, his phone was ringing.

“Yeah?” he answered. 

“On my way over,” Hank told him. “Just calling to make sure you’re dressed, because that is not the eyeful I need to get today.”

“Sure you’re much more interested in an eyeful of that blonde you’ve been seeing,” Nick replied.

“Man, I hate it when you do that,” Hank said.

“Sorry,” Nick said, not particularly apologetically. 

“Yeah, well, there’s still something you don’t know about her, and you won’t be finding it out any time soon,” Hank told him. “I’m almost there. I’ll let myself in, no need to get your pasty ass out of bed.”

“Couch,” Nick corrected. “Didn’t want to drag the dog upstairs.”

“Do I want to know what the hell that means?”

Nick grinned, then winced when it split his chapped lip open. “I’ll explain when you get here.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you soon.”

It wasn’t long before Nick heard the sound of Hank’s spare key unlocking the front door. 

“Hey, leper,” Hank called. “Brought you Chinese, because we obviously needed more confirmation that I’m the superior partner.” 

“I’ll go with that if there’s hot and sour soup,” Nick called back. Or, well, tried to call, but it came out as more of a croak as his throat protested his attempt to raise his voice.

“I’m going to take that as you agreeing with me,” Hank said.

Nick waited until Hank was in the room before replying, “For once, it actually was. Soup?”

“Hot and sour,” Hank confirmed. “And some vegetable spring rolls, because I doubt you – the hell is that?” 

Hank had come around to the other side of the couch and was staring at the dog, who was still on Nick’s lap. 

“Told you, I didn’t want to lug the dog upstairs,” Nick said. 

“I didn’t think that meant you’d got yourself some monster hanging around your house. Where’d you find him?”

“On the front porch,” Nick replied, scratching behind the dog’s ears. “Last night. He was injured, so I let him in. No collar, but he’s definitely been around people a lot. Pretty sure he’s house broken. He’s big, but he’s just a big softie. Aren’t you, boy?”

Hank rolled his eyes. “Man, I’m going to attribute that to your fever, because I do not want to see you becoming one of those people who talks to their pets.”

“Like you have room to talk, I’ve seen you and that retriever of yours,” Nick teased. 

“Don’t you talk about Sadie,” Hank retorted. “Well, better him than me. Here.” He set down the bag, pulling out two soup containers and a Styrofoam carton. “Have you eaten yet today?”

“I had tea?”

“Uh-huh.” Hank opened one of the containers of soup and handed it to Nick along with a plastic spoon. “Eat. Got you some orange juice, too, I’ll stick it in the fridge. Need anything while I’m in there?”

“Water?” Nick asked. “And there’s some meds on the counter, can you grab them?”

“You got it,” Hank said, disappearing into the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with a glass of water and a few bottles. “Here. All right, man, I’m out of here before you infect me.”

Nick grinned a bit. “You know you’re contagious about a day before you start showing symptoms, right? If you’re gonna catch it, you’ve probably got it already.”

Hank waved a hand. “All I know is the less exposure I get to your plague germs, the better. I’ll call you tomorrow to see how delusional you are.”

“Probably very, if this goes the way it usually does.” Whenever Nick caught something, it tended to follow along the same five day course: ‘man, I think I’m getting sick,’ ‘yup, definitely sick, this sucks,’ ‘I’m still alive, right?’ ‘oh, hey, back to just kind of sick,’ and finally just a few lingering symptoms that could be ignored.

“Good thing you’re cleared for another few days off, then.”

“Thanks, Hank.”

“I told you, this is selfish,” Hank said with a grin. “Just get your ass better so I don’t have to deal with Wu myself.”

Nick grinned back. “Working on it.”

“You better be.” Hank clapped him on the shoulder, then eyed the dog. “And keep an eye on that monster. Don’t make yourself worse taking care of him.”

The dog stirred, shifting to look at Hank.

“Yeah, I’m talking about you,” Hank told the dog. “You make sure Nick doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Hey,” Nick protested.

“You probably would if we didn’t watch you,” Hank informed him. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Hank headed out, and Nick looked down at the dog.

“I wouldn’t do anything stupid,” Nick said.

The dog yawned and settled his head back in Nick’s lap.

“Thanks for your support,” Nick told him, tousling his ears. 

He finished half of one of the containers of soup, washing it down with water and a handful of meds. By then, the dog was whimpering softly again in his sleep, so Nick carefully stood up. 

The dog lifted his head with a low whine, and Nick patted him reassuringly. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

Nick grabbed his laptop and another box of tissues, setting them on the coffee table. He put away the leftover soup, poured himself a glass of orange juice, and filled up a bowl with water, then returned to the living room, settling himself back on the couch and pulling the dog half in his lap. 

He coaxed the dog into drinking from the bowl, then ripped up one of the spring rolls and fed him some, hiding his next dose of painkillers in one of the pieces. 

They stayed that way the rest of the day, curled up together on the couch. Nick worked on some of the paperwork he had – well, as much as he could before the forms started making his headache worse.

When it started getting late, Nick finally gave up and shut down his laptop. 

“Right, think it’s about time to go pass out,” Nick told the dog. 

He extracted himself from the couch and dog, and carted the meds, tissues, and a glass of water upstairs to the bedroom. Then he headed back down to the living room, where the dog was still on the couch, awake and watching him. This time, he didn’t even try to get the dog to stay downstairs. Nick led him out into the yard, then grit his teeth and hauled the dog upstairs. 

“The things I do for you,” Nick muttered at the top, trying to catch his breath through a coughing fit.

The dog whined softly and licked his hand. Nick gave him a scratch behind his ear, and the two of them made their way into bedroom. Nick stripped down to boxers, pulled on a soft, worn tee-shirt, and helped the dog up onto the bed. 

It was still unmade from that morning, so when Nick flopped down and tugged up the covers, he pulled them over the both of them. Nick distributed their last round of meds for the night, then the dog curled up next to him with a contented sigh.

Nick grabbed the book he was sort of reading off the nightstand, deciding to see if he could finish the chapter he was in the middle of. The book was a paranormal action/romance of the werewolf variety, and the cover reflected that pretty obviously. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Nick told the dog, despite the fact that the dog didn’t seem to be paying any attention to him. “I only read them because it’s funny to take what I’ve ‘learned’ from them and ask Monroe about it. The look on his face is always priceless, especially when I imply I got it from my aunt’s books.”

He tried to read for a bit, but couldn’t concentrate on the book, and gave up before long. “Remind me there’s some stuff in here on biting I want to bug him about,” Nick told the dog as he reached over to turn off the light. 

It occurred to him as he rolled over onto his side, one arm automatically draping over the dog curled up next to him, that he was already assuming the dog would be there in the future.

“Going to have to think of a name for you,” Nick said, tangling his fingers in the dog’s fur. “I know I said I wasn’t going to keep you, but I think I lied. I think you might be mine.” 

The dog stirred a little under his touch. 

“Unless you have any objections?” Nick asked wryly. 

The dog resettled himself, untucking his head from the ball he’d been in and stretching out to use Nick’s shoulder as a pillow. 

“Good boy,” Nick murmured sleepily, closing his eyes and curling into the dog’s warmth. 

He drifted off to sleep quickly, but didn’t stay that way long. Sometime in the night he started coughing hard enough to wake himself up, and once it started, he couldn’t stop. If it wasn’t that, he was running hot and cold, alternatively all but clinging to the dog for heat and rolling away to escape it. Normally he’d be thrashing around, throwing off the covers and later making a mad grab for them, but with the injured dog sleeping next to him, he tried to limit himself. 

Finally, a few hours after the sun had come up, he dragged himself out of bed. “New plan,” he told the dog hoarsely. “Gonna get us set up so we can hole up in here.”

Nick got the dog downstairs, though it required a lot more help from the dog than yesterday, and out into the yard. When they were back inside, Nick heated up some of the leftover soup, then grabbed the rest of the egg salad, a bowl, and the carton of orange juice. 

“Stay here,” he told the dog as he started lugging the stuff upstairs. “I’ll be back down for you.”

But when he got everything set up and headed back for the dog, he found the dog halfway up the stairs.

“Hey, no,” Nick proteste, moving to the dog’s side. “You’re going to get yourself hurt worse, and I’m not getting Juliette back here. Come on, I’m not too sick to carry you.”

Except for the part where he pretty much was. But he muscled through, and got them both back in bed. Nick managed to eat about half of the soup, gave the rest to the dog, then doled out more drugs for the both of them. Then it was back to huddling under the covers, drifting in and out of consciousness only long enough to feed the dog and make sure he had water, force orange juice or water into himself, and get more meds.

Nick was reasonably sure that Hank called him at some point, mostly because he remembered being on the phone, the dog trying to nudge it out of his hand, and saying, “I’ve got to go, man, the dog is telling me to hang up and go back to sleep.”

He couldn’t remember Hank’s response, but it was probably something that Hank thought was funny.

Aside from that, the day passed in a blur, head pounding, throat raw, and chest aching, and Nick may or may not have asked the dog to just put him out of his misery. 

The dog just licked him on the chin and snuggled closer, and Nick decided that was a good alternative. 

With a slight abuse of nighttime cold and flu medication, he managed to fall asleep pretty early and stay asleep for most of the night, waking up only once to take more.

The next time he woke up, it was to a touch on his arm, gentle but insistent. He opened his eyes and saw the dog’s head pillowed on his chest, warm brown eyes staring at him.

“Hey,” Nick greeted, voice rough, and then froze, because he’d woken up this way before. The same soft touch, the same worried eyes, except it’d been a hand instead of a paw, human face instead of dog. 

_Wolf_ , Nick corrected. With his head this close, he couldn’t mistake the features. 

“Monroe?” Nick asked softly. 

The wolf’s head jerked up, but not before Nick saw recognition in his eyes. 

“It is you,” Nick said. “Man, I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out, I haven’t been at the top of my game.”

Monroe fidgeted, trying to pull away, but he must have put weight on his leg, because he gave a soft, surprised whimper. 

“Quit that,” Nick said, looping one arm around Monroe and burying his fingers in the fur at Monroe’s neck. “I meant it, I don’t want you to make yourself worse. What the hell happened?”

Monroe growled softly. 

“Right, you can’t answer. Was it creature related?”

Monroe hesitated, then nodded. 

Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Is this like the last time again?”

Monroe shook his head, and Nick relaxed a little, but not much.

“Is it dangerous?” Nick asked.

Monroe just gave him a look.

“Is it going to hurt anyone else?” Nick clarified.

Again Monroe hesitated, but this time shook his head. 

“Will it try to come after you again?” Nick asked.

Another hesitation, then Monroe nodded. 

Nick’s fingers tightened in Monroe’s fur. “Something I need to take care of, then.”

Monroe growled. 

“ _We_ need to take care of,” Nick corrected. “Is this something urgent, that we need to do right now?”

A head shake.

“Good,” Nick said. “You’re staying here until you’re healed up enough to change back. That’s why you haven’t, right?”

Monroe’s shoulders hunched slightly, and he nodded. 

Nick slid his hand up to scratch behind Monroe’s ears. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry, we’ll have you healed up in no time.”

Monroe twitched away from his hand, looking affronted. 

“What, now you’re complaining? You’ve spent the last two days sprawled all over me, man, get back here and let me scratch your ears, I know you like it.”

Monroe grumbled, but stilled. 

Nick was tempted to say ‘good boy,’ but thought that might be pushing it. So instead, he asked, “Did you wake me up for a reason?”

Monroe dropped his head back down, nudging at Nick’s chest. Nick took a deeper breath, grimacing at the rattling sound in his lungs. 

“Yeah, but at least it’s better than yesterday. How’s your leg?”

Monroe twitched his ears. 

Nick made a face. “Be honest, I’ll just hear you whimpering in your sleep, anyway.”

Monroe huffed, then gave a soft whimper. 

“Meds for both of us, then. Come on, let’s get you set up downstairs, then I need a shower.”

Monroe snorted. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you agree,” Nick muttered, climbing out of bed.

Once they were both medicated and Monroe was settled on the couch, Nick headed up to shower. He made it through with only one round of coughing so hard he nearly cracked his head against the tile, so he considered that a success. 

Monroe was curled up on his bed when he emerged from the bathroom. 

“Damn it, Monroe, I told you not to go up the stairs by yourself,” Nick grumbled.

Monroe snorted, lifting his head to look at him, then froze.

Nick rolled his eyes, crossing to his dresser in just a towel. “Look away if it bothers you. Should’ve thought of that before you came up here.”

He got dressed – or, well, put on a clean tee-shirt and pajama bottoms – and regarded Monroe again. “Now I have to get you back down.”

Monroe stood up shakily, like he was going to jump down, and Nick moved quickly to his side. 

“I don’t think so,” Nick said. “You want to be stuck like this longer?”

Monroe huffed at him, but let Nick help him back downstairs and onto the couch.

“Now stay here this time, I’ll be right back,” Nick told him, heading into the kitchen. He made tea and heated up two bowls of soup, bringing them out with another bowl and a bottle of water. Then he got comfortable, pulling Monroe half into his lap again.

Monroe hesitated before settling down, and Nick smoothed a hand over his head.

“Should this be weird?” Nick asked. “It seems like this should be weird.”

Monroe gave him a look.

“Yeah, I know, I should’ve thought of that before I got you over here.” Nick shrugged. “It doesn’t feel weird, so I’m going to go with no. Anyway, it’s cold and you’re warm, so keep being my living blanket.”

Monroe snorted, but dropped his head down to rest on Nick’s leg.

“I brought us soup,” Nick said. “I’ll stop by the grocery store tomorrow and pick up actual food. I was going to get some kibble, but I guess that’s probably not an option.”

Monroe shot him a horrified look, and Nick laughed.

“Didn’t think so. Here, eat your soup.”

After they were both fed and Nick finished nursing his tea, he called up Hank.

“Hey, man,” Nick greeted.

“You still sound like crap,” Hank informed him.

Nick chuckled, then had to clear his throat. “Yeah, but at least it’s better than yesterday.”

“Do you even remember me calling you yesterday?” Hank asked.

“Mostly,” Nick replied. “I remember getting forced to hang up?”

“Uh-huh,” Hank said. “That dog’s taking better care of you than you are.”

“Yeah.” Nick tangled the fingers of his free hand in Monroe’s fur. “Starting to notice that. But I’ll return the favor.”

“Poor dog,” Hank commented. “What do you need?”

“Nothing,” Nick said. “Just wanted to tell you I’ll be in tomorrow. Let the captain know for me, would you?”

“Fine,” Hank grumbled. “But I know you’re only getting me to do it for you because if you called him yourself sounding like that, he’d tell you to stay out another day.”

Nick grinned. “See you tomorrow, Hank.”

The next day, Nick’s symptoms were all but gone, and he returned to work as normal. Things settled into something of a routine over the next week or so. Nick started to like coming home to Monroe there, getting them both dinner and then curling up on the couch together to watch the game, or while Nick read or worked on reports. It was nice, having him around, a hell of a lot less lonely. 

Despite that, he still found he missed his friend. Talking to Monroe when he was a wolf wasn’t the same – Monroe still managed to pull off that ‘Nick how do you even survive with no brain cells’ look, but it fell a little flat when it wasn’t accompanied by a snarky comment. 

Nick actually missed the sound of Monroe’s voice. But, fortunately, since he wasn’t feverish anymore, that wasn’t something he felt the need to say out loud.

And regardless of Monroe’s reassurances, Nick was still worried about what had done this to him. But Monroe was reluctant to discuss it, and it was kind of hard to press him when he could only ask yes or no questions.

Maybe he’d just get some paint and a big sheet of paper and ask Monroe to write it out for him.

Of course, suggesting that idea to Monroe had gotten him another one of his ‘lack of brain cells’ looks. 

“Shut up,” Nick said, shoving him lightly – mindful of his ribs. “I don’t see you coming up with a better plan.”

Monroe pushed at his shoulder, hard enough to move him back a bit. Nick slung his arm around Monroe’s neck, pulling him to the side with a laugh, and Monroe apparently took that as encouragement, because they ended up wrestling around a little.

“You are such a cheater,” Nick told him, half pinned under Monroe’s heavy front legs, arm still around Monroe’s neck. “You know I can’t risk hurting you.”

Monroe huffed a laugh, tail wagging, and Nick took advantage of his apparent amusement to roll them over. Monroe let out a startled whimper, and Nick backed off. 

“Crap, Monroe, I’m sorry, I-”

Monroe pounced on him, cutting him off.

Nick gave a surprised ‘oof,’ then laughed. “You jerk, you’re going to get it.”

Playing a bit rougher, Nick managed to roll them over again, sinking his fingers into Monroe’s fur and scratching along his side and chest. Nick was still worried about Monroe’s ribs, though, so he pulled back with a grin.

“I win,” he commented. 

Monroe clambered to his feet, glaring at Nick in a disgruntled way that Nick would’ve bought more if his tail hadn’t still been wagging. Nick tousled Monroe’s ears, and Monroe licked his chin.

“All right, come on. You’re supposed to be resting, I shouldn’t be encouraging you.” Nick scratched him behind the ears again. “How’re your ribs?” 

Monroe’s response was to jump back up on the couch.

“Yeah, yeah.” Nick sat back down as well, waiting while Monroe settled in his lap. “Just don’t push it, okay? You’ve still got awhile to heal.”

Monroe huffed at him, and Nick smoothed his hand over his head. 

“I know, man. But we’ll get you fixed up, and then go take care of whatever did this to you,” Nick told him. 

Monroe pushed his nose into Nick’s hand, and Nick stretched back on the couch, letting Monroe use his chest as a pillow while they watched the rest of the movie.

“We better get to bed,” Nick told him when it was over. “I’ve got a really long day tomorrow, I’ll probably be home late.”

But fortunately, Nick was wrong. The paperwork load he had didn’t take him nearly as long as he’d thought it would, and he actually got home fairly early. 

Which turned out to be a good thing, because as soon as he closed the door, he could hear heavy breathing and pained grunts and whimpers coming from the living room. Nick dropped his keys and rushed for the living room, skidding to a stop when he saw Monroe on the floor, somewhere between wolf and human and obviously having a difficult time. 

Nick approached him more slowly, then, but Monroe’d already heard him, and lifted his head to growl. 

“It’s just me,” Nick said soothingly, reaching Monroe’s side and kneeling next to him.

Monroe whined, limbs flexing and claws scraping against the floor.

Nick reached out automatically, one hand on Monroe’s head and the other on his shoulder. Monroe turned towards him, leaning heavily into his touch, and Nick pulled him closer, sliding his arms around him in a semi-embrace.

“It’s okay,” Nick murmured. “You’re okay. You just need to pick a form and go with it, all right? Whichever’s easier.”

Monroe shuddered and leaned into him, pressing against his chest. 

“You’re okay,” Nick said again, voice soft. “I’ve got you.”

Talking seemed to help, and so did Nick’s touch, so he kept up his quiet murmuring, smoothing hands over fur that rippled and skin that twitched as muscle and bone shifted. Nick thought Monroe would go wolf, since he was obviously hurting and vulnerable and might want his more defensive form, but after a long – and what looked to be painful – process, it was a very human Monroe Nick was cradling in his arms. 

A very human, very naked Monroe, but that wasn’t something Nick was worried about at the moment. 

Nick had one hand tangled in Monroe’s sweat-dampened hair, the other stroking over Monroe’s shoulders, down his spine, and back again. Monroe’s forehead rested heavily on Nick’s shoulder, breathing raggedly in short bursts. 

“I’ve still got you,” Nick murmured. 

They stayed like that for awhile, until Monroe’s breathing evened out and he stopped trembling slightly under Nick’s fingers. 

“Well, that backfired,” Monroe said, voice rough. 

“Really?” Nick asked dryly. “Couldn’t have told you that.” 

“Shut up,” Monroe grumbled, followed by a tiny hiss of pain that Nick probably wouldn’t have been able to hear if Monroe hadn’t been so close. 

“You just made it worse, didn’t you?” Nick asked. “Shifting back before you should have.”

“No,” Monroe protested, then sighed. “Maybe.” 

Nick slid his hand over Monroe’s back to his side, fingertips skimming lightly over Monroe’s ribs. 

Monroe growled softly. 

Nick’s hand stilled, worried. “That hurt?”

Monroe didn’t say anything.

Nick’s concern grew. “Monroe?”

“No,” Monroe replied. “Uh. Yes. Just – don’t touch me.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, despite Monroe not being able to see it. “Kind of hard not to right now.”

Monroe was silent again.

“Do you want me to move?” Nick asked. 

“Give me a minute,” Monroe muttered. 

“Take your time,” Nick said. “I don’t mind. I’d rather you not get hurt more because you decided to be an even bigger idiot.”

Monroe growled. 

“That wasn’t scary when you were a wolf, and it’s not scary now,” Nick informed him.

“And _I’m_ the idiot?” Monroe retorted. 

“Of the two of us, who was the one who damaged his ribs more by deciding to make them change shape while they were possible fractured? Oh, right, that’d be you,” Nick said. “Was being stuck in wolf form with me really that bad?”

Monroe sighed. “Can I at least borrow some pants before we have this conversation?”

Nick blinked. “It’s going to be a conversation?” He’d been expecting a response something along the lines of ‘yeah, I couldn’t talk, didn’t have opposable thumbs, and was stuck here doing nothing all day, what do you think?’

Monroe paused. “Uh. No?”

“Nice try,” Nick said. “Too late for that now. Hold on.”

Nick ran upstairs to grab a pair of sweats he had that were a little too big for him. They’d probably still be slightly too short for Monroe, but it was better than nothing. Nick looked away while Monroe pulled them on, then moved back into Monroe’s personal space. He reached out to touch Monroe’s side, but Monroe shifted away.

“Don’t,” he said. 

Nick rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt them more by touching them than you did by changing shape.”

“It’s not that,” Monroe said. 

Nick waited for Monroe to expand on that, then gave up when it became obvious he wasn’t going to. “All right, fine. Let’s talk about _why_ you decided to change shape, then.” 

Monroe looked away. “When I’m like that for too long, I get – used to it.”

“Used to it?” Nick repeated. 

“Use your brain, what little of it you have,” Monroe snapped, then grimaced. “Look, this isn’t something I like talking about, okay?”

“Okay,” Nick said. “You get used to being a wolf. Got it.”

“No, you don’t,” Monroe said. “It’s not just being a wolf. It’s – this. All of it. It’s been a long time since I had something like this – actually, no, I’ve never had something like this – but it’s been a long time since I had anything close. I couldn’t let myself get used to it. It’s dangerous.”

Nick kept quiet for a moment, considering. He was pretty sure Monroe was talking about getting used to stuff like them wrestling last night, but no matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t say that ever felt _dangerous_. Maybe Monroe meant in general. “Is this some kind of Blutbad instinct you’re worried about?”

“Not the way you’re thinking,” Monroe said. 

“How do you know what I’m thinking?” Nick asked. 

“What else would you be thinking when I tell you it was getting dangerous for me to be in wolf form, after last night?” Monroe muttered. 

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Not that I was in any danger from you attacking me. I was having just as much fun as you were, and last time I checked, tail wagging wasn’t a big indicator of incoming aggression. I was thinking something along the lines of you getting too used to hanging out with me in wolf form, and those pack instincts that you said were bad.”

Monroe looked almost surprised. 

“Am I close?” Nick asked. 

“Maybe,” Monroe said, begrudgingly. “But not bad like that, just – it wasn’t going to last forever. I needed to cut myself off.”

Nick stared at him. “What, so you liked hanging out with me but since you knew you couldn’t keep doing it, you decided to injure yourself more cutting it short?”

Monroe scowled. “Don’t say it like that. You make it sound-”

“Stupid?” Nick supplied. “It is. And you didn’t even have to. You’re always welcome here, wolf or human. You’re not the only one who liked it, you know. It’s been nice, coming home to you.”

That hadn’t come out the way Nick had intended. Crap.

Monroe’s eyes darkened, and for a moment Nick was concerned, but Monroe looked – almost tempted. 

Then Monroe shook his head. “That would just make it worse.”

“All right, now I’m confused again,” Nick said. 

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Monroe muttered. “I should probably just go home.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Nick told him. “I’ll drop the first part – for now – but you’re still injured.”

Monroe growled. “I can take care of myself.”

Nick frowned. “I know you can. That doesn’t mean you should have to.”

“Maybe I want to,” Monroe said stubbornly. 

“You can’t pretend like you’re annoyed by me wanting to help take care of you, after you’ve already admitted that you liked it.”

“Watch me,” Monroe said. “I’m going home.”

“Monroe,” Nick protested, resting his hand on the Blutbad’s shoulder. 

Monroe leaned into the touch, turning his head like he was going to nuzzle into Nick’s hand, then caught himself and pulled away, growling. 

“What is with you?” Nick demanded. 

“What’s with me?” Monroe repeated, giving Nick one of his ‘seriously, any brain cells in there?’ looks. “I got my ass kicked by a Befangendorn who’s invading my territory, it feels like something’s stabbing me every time I breathe, and I’ve got a pushy Grimm who won’t quit bugging me. Sorry if I’m a little cranky.”

“None of that is convincing me that you should go off by yourself,” Nick replied, but couldn’t help feeling guilty. “I’m not trying to be pushy. I just don’t want you hurt.”

“Little late for that,” Monroe said dryly. 

“More hurt than you already are,” Nick corrected. “Is that such a bad thing?”

Monroe looked away. “No. It’s not.”

When Monroe didn’t say anything else, Nick sighed. “Will you at least tell me about the Befangendorn?”

“Forest creatures,” Monroe said. “Kind of like nymphs, only a lot less into ‘free love’ and more ‘kill anyone who poses a threat to them or their territory.’ Which apparently the one who’s just moved here has decided I am.”

“But you were here first. It’s your territory,” Nick said.

Monroe snorted. “Tell that to her.”

Nick considered that. 

Monroe’s eyes widened. “No. Nick, that was not a serious suggestion, you better not actually be thinking about that.”

“Why not?” Nick asked. “You said she wouldn’t hurt anyone else.”

“They’re not usually violent and they’re not known to hurt people,” Monroe said. “But neither are Mauzhertz, and look how that turned out.”

“It can’t hurt to try,” Nick said.

“Yes, it can,” Monroe told him. “It can hurt a lot, actually, I can tell you from personal experience.”

“So I’ll go talk to her by myself,” Nick said. 

“Yeah, good luck finding out where she lives,” Monroe retorted. “I don’t even know that.”

“So when I said it was something we had to take care of and you agreed, you were thinking what?” Nick asked. 

Monroe scowled. “I didn’t say I didn’t know how to find her. I can track her.”

Nick nodded. “Good. Then when you’re feeling better, we’ll do that. You’ll track her and I’ll talk to her.”

Monroe opened his mouth, probably to protest, then closed it and glared at him. “I hate it when you do that.” 

“No you don’t,” Nick said with a grin. “Now will you lay back down and let me get you some painkillers?”

Monroe scowled at him.

“Please?” Nick asked, though this time he kept himself from putting his hand on Monroe’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, fine,” Monroe muttered, sitting down on the couch. 

Nick brought him the pills and sat next to him, resisting the urge to tug Monroe into his lap. He doubted Monroe would appreciate it, especially after that thing Nick was still a little confused by. As best as he could tell, Monroe had started getting used to being a wolf, to the way Nick acted around him when he was one. Nick suspected it reminded him of when he’d had a pack, or whatever. 

But he didn’t get why Nick telling him that he was welcome there as a wolf would make things worse. All right, it wasn’t like he expected Monroe to turn into a wolf every night and sleep in his bed. But wrestling around, watching TV on the couch, what was wrong with that? It couldn’t be the bed thing that Monroe’d been wanting. 

Or maybe it could. Maybe that was one of the things Monroe missed – or wanted but never had – someone to curl up with at night without it having to mean anything. Nick could do that. It wasn’t like he wanted it to mean anything, either.

And if there was a little voice in the back of his mind that told him he couldn’t lie to himself forever, well, he’d gotten pretty used to ignoring it. 

He glanced at Monroe out of the corner of his eye, and realized he was falling asleep. 

“Hey, man, don’t fall asleep sitting up like that,” Nick said. 

“I wouldn’t if you’d let me go home,” Monroe grumbled, sounding half asleep. 

Nick started to give in and say he’d drive Monroe home, but stopped when something occurred to him. “If you’re at home by yourself, is she going to try anything?”

“The way my luck’s been going, probably,” Monroe muttered. 

“Then you’re staying here,” Nick told him.

Monroe cursed under his breath. “Damn it, Nick, I just want to go to bed.”

“I have a guest room,” Nick replied. “Or you can share with me, it doesn’t have to mean anything more than it did when you were a wolf.”

“I know it doesn’t,” Monroe said, looking miserable. “Fine, whatever. If you’re going to be an ass about this, I’ll take the guest room. Just for tonight.”

“Until this is taken care of,” Nick told him. 

Monroe lasted three days before he informed Nick that they were either taking care of this now, or Monroe was taking his chances and going home. Which was how Nick found himself standing on the front porch of a house with a beautiful yard, knocking at the door while Monroe sulked about being told to wait by the car. 

After a few moments, a pretty blonde woman answered the door, a friendly smile on her face. “Yes?”

“Hi,” Nick greeted, trying not to think about how this was the person who’d hurt Monroe. “I’m sorry to drop by like this, but-”

The Befangendorn slipped, showing an impossibly beautiful humanoid face, with green skin, solid brown eyes, and thorny vines in place of hair. Then she was entirely human again, looking terrified. 

“I haven’t done anything,” she told him. “Please, you know my kind. We don’t hurt people, we never hurt anyone.”

“Unless they’re a threat,” Nick said. 

“No – yes, I – but you’re not a threat.” Her eyes widened, as if worried she’d offended him. “I would never hurt you, or anyone else. People are not threats to us, or our homes.”

“But Blutbaden are?” Nick asked. 

“Wh – of course. You know what they’re like,” she said. “They’re vicious, killers plain and simple. Having one in your home is not only risking attack, it’s practically inviting a Grimm to come investigating when the bodies start to pile up.”

“They’re not all like that,” Nick told her. 

“I – I’m sorry?” she asked, clearly confused. 

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he told her gently. “I’m not that kind of Grimm. But I do need to talk to you. May I come in?”

“Oh – yes. Of course. Please, come into the back yard?”

She still looked nervous, but now seemed more confused than filled with terror. She led him around the side and into the backyard, which was even more beautiful than the front, filled with plants and trees perfectly cared for. 

“Would you like to sit down?” she asked, gesturing to a stone bench. 

“Thank you,” Nick said, waiting for her to sit down before following suit. 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know why you’re here,” she said, looking anywhere but at him.

“You were involved in an altercation with a Blutbad a few weeks ago,” Nick said. 

“An alt – you know about that? No, of course you do, you’re a Grimm, I’m sorry,” she babbled.

“Yes, I know about it.” He would have told her not to apologize, but she’d hurt Monroe. She should be sorry. 

“I don’t know where he is,” she told him. “I’d help if I could, I really would. I can tell you where he lives, but I don’t think he’s been back there and I don’t know where else he could be.” 

“I know where he is. That’s not what I’m here for.” 

“You do? You’re not? But I-”

“I’m not like other Grimms,” Nick told her. 

She finally looked at him, smiling almost hesitantly. “I know. I mean, I don’t _know_ , but I’ve heard, that the Grimm in this city was – reasonable. It’s why I moved here, I ran into another Grimm before and I just – I didn’t want to be scared anymore.”

“You don’t have to be scared.” Nick touched her forearm gently. “But you can’t-”

Nick cut off at the sound of low, insistent growling nearby. He turned to find Monroe at the gate, eyes red and glaring at the Befangendorn.

“What happened to-” Nick started. 

The Befangendorn stood up, looking furious. “This is my _home_ , Blutbad, how dare you?”

She abruptly lost all trace of human form, standing tall and green, covered with thorny vines. 

“Wait, this isn’t-” Nick began, but once again, didn’t get to finish, because the Befangendorn lashed at Monroe with a pair of vines. 

Nick lunged at her without really thinking about it, tackling her to the ground. She shrieked, wrapping vines around him and trying to throw him off, but he held on tight. 

“We’re not here to hurt you,” Nick grit out. “But you’re going to have a very angry Blutbad and an even angrier Grimm on your hands if you don’t stop.

“ _He_ came here!” she said. 

“He came here with me,” Nick told her. “And you’re lucky I wanted to talk to you instead of just making sure you’d never hurt him again.”

The Befangendorn stopped struggling, clearly surprised. “What?”

“I’m going to let you up,” Nick said. “I suggest-”

He got cut off as something – Monroe – grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him away from the Befangendorn. The thorns on the vines tore briefly into his skin where they were wrapped around him, then he was pulled free. Monroe was growling, trying to shove Nick behind him, but Nick planted his feet on the ground and wrapped an arm around Monroe’s waist to stop him.

“Monroe,” he said. “She’s not going to hurt us.”

“Right, that’s why she had you wrapped up in those death traps,” Monroe retorted, still glaring down the Befangendorn. 

“Hey, I tackled her. A little credit here,” Nick told him, smoothing his hand over Monroe’s back.

Monroe calmed down the slightest bit, though his eyes didn’t lose their red tinge. 

“You – you’re friends?” the Befangendorn asked tentatively. 

“Yes,” Nick said, only partially looking at her. “Monroe is weider.”

She blinked. “I – oh, I didn’t know, I-”

“You didn’t exactly give me a chance to explain,” Monroe grumbled, the growl still in his voice.

“Of course not. If you give a Blutbad the chance to explain, you give them the chance to tear out your throat,” she said.

“Not this one,” Nick told her, focusing on her more completely. 

“I will if she pulls that vine trick on either of us again,” Monroe muttered. 

“You’re not helping,” Nick muttered back.

“No, actually, that was really effective,” the Befangendorn said, looking at Nick with frightened eyes again. “I understand, I – I won’t come near you again.”

“I’m still not here to hurt you,” Nick told her. “Just don’t hurt my friends, and we’ll be fine.” 

“No, no, I won’t. I’m sorry,” she said. 

“Tell that to Monroe,” Nick replied. 

She turned to Monroe. “I’m sorry.” 

He shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable. “It’s fine. Just stay away from me.”

They left to her assurances that she’d never come after them, Nick’s arm still around Monroe’s waist. When they separated at the car, Nick going around to the driver’s side, Monroe winced. 

“Are you okay?” Nick asked. 

“What? No, it’s – Nick, you’re bleeding a lot,” Monroe said, sounding worried. 

“Yeah, I noticed. Kind of feels like I went swimming in some thorn bushes,” Nick commented.

“Looks like that, too,” Monroe replied.

“Oh, good,” Nick said dryly. “Nice to know I look how I feel. Get in, we need to get home so I can take care of this.” 

Nick spread a towel over the driver’s seat so he wouldn’t get too much blood on it, and started home. He was over halfway there before it occurred to him to ask Monroe if he wanted to get dropped off at his own house. 

“And leave you to patch yourself up?” Monroe snorted. 

“The blood doesn’t bother you?” Nick asked. 

“I didn’t kill her for attacking you, so I think we’re safe,” Monroe replied.

That wasn’t exactly what Nick meant, but he didn’t know how to clarify without making it sound like he was worried the blood was going to make Monroe attack him, so he let it drop. 

When they got home, Monroe herded Nick to the downstairs bathroom, where the first aid kit was. He pulled it out while Nick eyed himself in the mirror. 

“Yeah, this shirt isn’t savable,” Nick commented, peeling it off. “That sucks, I liked this shirt.”

“Better the shirt than you,” Monroe said. 

“True,” Nick agreed, kicking off his shoes to tug down his jeans and toss them aside. 

Without clothes, he looked even worse – smeared all over with blood, dozens of tiny cuts and a good number that looked bigger, especially on his arms. He looked at them critically before reaching for a washcloth. “Doesn’t look like any of them need stitches.” 

He started cleaning up, frowning when there was no reply from Monroe. 

“Monroe?” he asked, turning towards him. 

Monroe was staring at him, eyes dark and intense. Nick felt his breath catch a bit. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them, and Monroe somehow managed to lean closer to him without actually moving. Nick started to reach out to him, but then Monroe’s eyes widened and he shook his head. 

“You should shower before we bandage you up,” Monroe said. “Get all that off you.”

He rushed out of the bathroom, leaving Nick confused. Obviously, he’d completely misinterpreted what he thought that look had been.

Nick showered quickly, re-opening some of the cuts that’d started to scab over and causing little sharp notes of pain. The cuts on his legs seemed mostly fine, though, probably since he’d been wearing denim. When he finished, he pulled on a pair of sweats before going out into the living room. 

Monroe seemed much calmer, and yeah, Nick’d definitely been misinterpreting. 

“I thought you said the blood didn’t bother you,” Nick said. 

Monroe frowned. “What? It didn’t. Come here.” 

Nick stood still while Monroe bandaged his arms, still trying to figure it out. While Monroe was distracted, Nick rested an experimental hand on Monroe’s side. When there was no reaction, Nick casually slid his hand up and around to Monroe’s back. Monroe shifted so he was pressing against Nick’s hand, but he didn’t look like he was aware of it, focus still on bandaging Nick’s other arm. 

Nick moved further upward, over the back of Monroe’s neck to tangle in his hair. 

This, Monroe noticed, suddenly becoming very still. 

“Nick,” he said, his tone half a plea and half warning. 

“Why didn’t you want me to touch you?” Nick asked. 

“Why can’t you ever let anything go?” Monroe returned. 

“Because I like touching you,” Nick replied, open and honest. “And I thought you did, too, at least in wolf form. And now, when you’re too distracted to catch yourself.”

Monroe sighed. “Of course I like it. Hard to hide that from you, apparently.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Nick asked. 

“That’s the problem,” Monroe muttered. “I like it. I want more than you can give.”

Nick frowned. “No, you don’t. I already told you, you can come hang out with me as a wolf any time. If it didn’t get weird with you spending over a week sharing the bed with me, it’s not going to suddenly get weird now.”

“That isn’t what I want,” Monroe said. 

And now Nick was even more confused. “It’s not?”

“No,” Monroe said, pacing a few steps away from him. “Well, yes, it’s nice, and I do want it, but it’s dangerous because it also makes me want things I can’t have.”

“A Blutbad pack,” Nick said, because now he understood again.

Except maybe he didn’t, since Monroe turned back towards him, looking annoyed. “No, you stupid, frustrating Grimm, _you_. I want – you.”

And finally, finally everything clicked into place. 

“That’s why you changed back so soon,” Nick said. 

“I knew I was in too deep already, I just wanted to get out. But you came home early, and then that just made it worse,” Monroe muttered. 

“And why you didn’t want me to touch you.”

“I was naked in your arms, what did you expect?” Monroe growled. “Can we drop this now, or are you going to keep rehashing everything?”

Nick shook his head. “I can’t drop it, because there’s something you don’t know.”

Monroe snorted. “What?”

“I want you, too.”

Monroe froze. “What?” he said again.

“I want you, too, you stupid, frustrating Blutbad,” Nick said.

Monroe stared at him, as though he wasn’t sure he was understanding quite right. 

“What did you think I was trying to do in the bathroom?” Nick asked. 

“I don’t know, Nick, you invade my personal space all the time, how was I supposed to tell this was-”

Nick kissed him. 

Monroe stopped talking and kissed him back, hands hovering like he didn’t exactly know what to do with them. 

“Do we have to have a talk about how great everything works again?” Nick asked, without really breaking the kiss. 

“Are you _seri_ -” Monroe started, flustered, then cut off with a growl. He wrapped an arm around Nick’s waist, pulling him in closer.

Nick smiled into the kiss, tangling his fingers in Monroe’s hair again. When he pulled away, it was only to drag lips and teeth down Monroe’s neck, tugging in irritation at Monroe’s shirt collar when it hindered his progress. 

That was supposed to be a hint for Monroe to take it off, but Monroe was apparently too distracted by turning his attentions to Nick’s own neck to get it.

“If this isn’t something you really want, you need to tell me to stop,” Monroe said, in between pressing kisses to Nick’s skin.

Nick tilted his head to allow Monroe better access, pressing the palm of his hand lightly against the small of Monroe’s back, under Monroe’s shirt. “I started it,” Nick murmured. “You better not stop.”

Monroe grazed his teeth over Nick’s neck, and Nick scratched blunt nails over Monroe’s lower back.

“Bed,” Monroe told him, not quite growling.

“Your ribs,” Nick replied, fingers skimming lightly up his sides. 

“Think I’ll do more damage to them if one of us gets pinned against the wall, because unless we get upstairs, that’s where this is heading,” Monroe said. 

“Was that supposed to be an argument in favor of going upstairs? Because it really didn’t work,” Nick told him, nipping at Monroe’s lower lip.

But he started towards the stairs anyway, pulling Monroe with him, because he was too busy trying to unbutton Monroe’s shirt to want to take the time to separate and climb them properly. It wasn’t fair that Monroe kept running his hands over Nick’s skin with ease, and Nick was hampered by fabric and buttons. It was slow going, but they managed to make it upstairs, out of breath and Monroe successfully divested of his shirt. 

He might have popped a few buttons in the process of it, but he didn’t particularly care about that right then, more concerned with splaying his hand over Monroe’s stomach and stroking up his chest. 

“Still better than hauling you up these,” Nick murmured. 

Monroe pulled back, just a bit. “I never asked you why you did that.”

“Because it was a stupid question?” Nick asked. “I thought you were an injured stray, I wasn’t going to just leave you downstairs.” 

“Softie,” Monroe commented. 

Nick dragged his teeth over Monroe’s collarbone, and Monroe’s breath hitched. 

“Anyway, then it was you. And that’s just what we do, help each other out. Even if one of us is a wolf and the other has the flu,” Nick told him, voice muffled by his lips pressed against Monroe’s skin.

“You always talk that much when you have the flu?” Monroe asked, fingers curling around the back of Nick’s neck.

“Pretty much,” Nick replied. “If we could just never mention anything I said again, that’d be great.”

Monroe grinned at him. “You’re not the only one that can never let something go. I _knew_ you were just making up half of that crap.”

“I wasn’t making it up,” Nick protested. “I just let you think I was getting the information from somewhere else.”

“Yeah, yeah. Your fun’s over, you’re never tricking me again.”

But Monroe didn’t seem inclined to talk about it anymore after that. The sudden appearance of Nick’s hand down his pants might have had something to do with that. 

They made it into the bedroom, and Nick pushed Monroe back onto the bed, gently, then straddled his hips.

“I thought you were worried about my ribs,” Monroe commented.

“I am,” Nick said, resting his hand gently against Monroe’s side and following it with a kiss. “Fortunately, I know about a hundred other things we can do.”

“Only a hundred?” Monroe asked, but his usual snarky tone was just a little bit breathless.

“Thought I’d take it slow, to start,” Nick replied. 

Monroe raised an eyebrow. “If this is slow? I can’t wait to see fast.”

“Me neither,” Nick said with a grin. He shifted up to give Monroe a kiss, murmuring, “Next time,” against his lips. 

Then he pulled back, setting about doing a few of those other hundred things.


End file.
